Latimer/Hoover
Listen now boys,
my grandmother said -
I'll tell you a story and
then off to bed
There once was a time,
we lived off the land
Harvest would come,
and we all lent a hand
But winds blew our lives,
and scattered our seeds
Changing the landscape,
from flowers to weeds
See in the graveyard
the families gone
The grandest of tombstones
carry them on
When you sail from the Harbour,
It's your last eyes of Ireland
We tended the fire,
and faeries appeased
the flame never died
until we had to leave
And when we were gone,
the house tumbled down
and covered our footprints,
we'd left on the ground
When you sail from the Harbour,
It's your last eyes of Ireland

My eyes are now tired
and no longer see
But visions of Ireland
linger in me
So carry your past
in the rooms of your heart
and you'll never he empty
of love when you part
When you sail from the Harbour,
It's your last eyes of Ireland